


Aftermath

by Acaranna



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Into Darkness - Fandom
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 19:56:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acaranna/pseuds/Acaranna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though it's over, there will always be the memories ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BotanyCameos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BotanyCameos/gifts).



> So this is my gift for the lovely BotanyCameos. It may not be the longest story but I hope you still like it. :-)
> 
> Oh, and Merry Christmas!

Waking up had never been slow or sluggish for him. It wasn't a drawn out process that kept him in the hazy state between truly awake and blissfully sleeping. There was no cloudy cover for his thoughts that made them appear dreamlike or unreal. Not even the terrors of nightmares – his only dreams so far – were able to truly keep him in their claws for long. No, his mind, designed as it was, went from blank to fully functioning in less than a moment. It was for the best and had saved him so many times that he'd lost count – if he had ever done something like that.

Sometimes though, he wished for that haze of not quite awareness. It seemed to be relaxing, calming even. What would it be like to drift along the shores of your dreams, knowing that they would pass and yet still being able to keep them close? Would he even be able to hold onto them like humans did? Jim certainly seemed to be able to dream long into wakefulness. He made it seem so easy.

But it didn't make sense to dwell on things that would never be within his reach. Right now the only dreams he had were nightmares. His subconsciousness dragging up memories he would much rather forget. Painful experiences that were long since over but which still made him ache in the worst possible way. Humiliation and mind games, the threat to his family in order to make him compliant and docile. 

Anger welled up in his body, racing through his body when the trauma crawled back out of the dark part of his brain. The one spot where he had forced them into. He wanted to forget. He wanted revenge. He wanted pain, death, destruction … 

He wanted peace and quiet, his family. His friends.

Would they be able to accept it though? Their new life? Not reigning but being reigned - in some way at least. Following orders not given by him but someone else?

Would they be free to live among the normal human beings and extra-terrestrials? He didn’t know and if he was honest with himself - he wasn’t quite sure if waking them up would be the right thing to do. His own waking had been hell and if it weren’t for Jim and his crew …

Shaking his head Khan tried to force those thoughts from his mind. Marcus had certainly left his signature on him and it would take a long, long time for it to fade away. It had been carved into his flesh, his bones - but those scars had vanished within hours.

Restlessness settled in his bones, forcing him to leave the warmth of the bed and the comforting arms of the young man within. It should feel strange, taking comfort when he had never needed it in his whole life. But something had changed. Was it him? He didn’t know and he wasn’t quite sure if he really wanted to know.

Getting to his feet Khan didn’t turn around to look at Jim’s sleeping face. If he would, he wouldn’t be able to leave the room like he intended to. Instead he would return to the calming cocoon and bury himself beneath the warm body that was so much smaller than him but felt so very soothing when it wrapped itself around him.

Suppressing a sigh he finally forced himself to his feet and shivered when the cool floor connected with his skin. It sent a flash of phantom pain through him when his body remembered the icy floor of the cell which had been his home for the year he had been awake. Marcus had been clever at least in the beginning.

Never unwatched, always with the thread of his family’s death hanging over his head Khan had allowed the mad man to rule his life until he could figure out a way to escape. And take his revenge. But the revenge he had been looking for never really came.

Marcus was dead, yes, but his death had been too quick, to painless … too unfulfilling.

His feet had carried him to the bathroom without a conscious decision to do so. Khan stared into the mirror. There was no visible sign of his experience. The pain, the constant fear for his loved ones, the humiliation.

One should think that the year had left visible marks on him. Lines in his face, scars on his body. There were none. There was nothing except the darkness in his eyes. The remembrance that only very few seemed to see. Jim had been one of them and while the young Captain still hadn’t really forgiven him for killing his mentor - he had at least given Khan a chance to atone. Not that he was truly atoning for anything. He didn’t regret his actions. He never did.

But maybe he should? He wasn’t sure …

The sound of shattering glass ripped him from his thoughts. His eyes started to see again, instead of staring into nothingness. Hundreds of cracked images stared back at him. He frowned slightly and looked down to were his hand was imbedded into the surface. Not as a fist but the flat of his hand. Only now did the pain make it’s way up his nerves. He left it there, watching tiny, red rivers run over his pale skin and down the why tiles.

Time  became meaningless while his blood dried on his skin. Every time it did Khan would move his hand to get the blood back to flowing. There was no real pain. Only the little sting of glass cutting into his flesh. So why was he remembering so much more pain when Marcus had done that to his body?

He didn’t know.

Warm arms wrapped themselves around his waist and it was only the scent that kept Jim from being killed as a reaction to Khan’s surprise. Gentle lips, pressed against the top of his spine, had him sighing, the unnoticed tension flowing out of his body.

He watched, entranced by the calm motions, as Jim took his hand and carefully held it beneath the tap. The water was warm and soothing, tinged pink from where it washed away the blood. If only it would wash away the memories as well.

But here, wrapped in Jim’s arms, the memories didn’t seem that bad, his future not as dark. His crew was safe. Still asleep and probably forever, but at least they were safe. His own life was bound to the Captain, separated from his family but still knowing that they were taken care off.

It would have to be enough.

And maybe it really was …

… enough.


End file.
